


It's An Old Song

by TudorVonTrapps



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell, Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anna is hades, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Hadestown AU, I wanted to make aragon a fate but I didn't know who the other two would be, Jane and the LIW are the workers, Katherine is persephone, Underworld, and the actual hadestown fates are there as well as hermes, anne is orpheus, homegirl has like three other fics tho so, katanna, parr is eurydice, parrlyn, so I guess you could say it's a crossover but not rlly, so she's just not there, which is a shock coming from me bc y'all know I love aragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:42:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TudorVonTrapps/pseuds/TudorVonTrapps
Summary: Anne Boleyn was a poor girl, but she had a gift to give. She could make you see how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is. Catherine Parr knew how to survive. Anne knew how to live.But Anna of Cleves was a mighty Queen, who ruled the Underworld. She lead a mass of tortured souls, who spent all day in toil. Six months of the year, she was joined by her beautiful bride, Katherine Howard, a Springtime goddess, who spent the other half of the year in beautiful fields of flowers.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr, Anne of Cleves/Katherine Howard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	It's An Old Song

Catherine Parr hadn’t lived very long. But she had lived through a whole lot. If anyone could call themselves a survivor, it was Catherine Parr, who was but twenty three years old, but had already had multiple occasions during which she had come close to death. She’d beaten up death and spit in its face for thinking that it (or she) could possibly have the audacity to get rid of her. Or so it seemed, from her tough girl exterior. But deep down, she was terrified of not being able to survive, of not being able to provide for herself. This fear of some impending doom awaiting her drove her forward, and it was because of that fear that she always surrounded herself with thick walls of protection. For Catherine Parr was a hungry young girl, you see, in this world of gods and men. A hungry young girl against the world. _Against the wind. **  
**_

The wind had always played a role in her life, as Catherine had never really stayed in one place, always travelling from place to place, town to town, being kicked out of shelters, or tracked down by exes, or otherwise forced to leave. But wherever she went, the weather seemed to follow her, the wind that chilled the air and made her shiver even in what few days they could call summer, never left. She liked to think she travelled with the wind, finding a new place to live wherever a breeze would take her. _Any way the wind blows,_ she said to herself, as she walked along a narrow road, convincing herself to go on. She held her coat more tightly around her, it was long and thick and should’ve been warm, but she’d been out in the cold too long to actually feel any warmth, no matter how warmly she was dressed. Parr looked up and looked around, and thought she saw a town in the distance, or at least a building or two. She smiled to herself, seeing signs of civilization. _Maybe a place where she could spend the night? Or at least get something to eat,_ she thought. She decided to start walking towards the distant buildings.

As the buildings and the distance appeared to get bigger and bigger, Parr told herself that maybe, if she made it there, she’d last another day….Some food, maybe a bed to sleep in. But times were hard and only getting harder, and with no money to give anyone in return, she wondered if she’d be able to find anything after all. Everyone was poor, everyone was looking out only for themselves, everyone was trying to survive. Why be nice and hospitable and do favors for someone else, why give away things for free, why take pity on them when you weren’t much better off yourself, and needed your own money? Still, she hoped she could at least find a bench outside to sleep on, a scrap of thrown out food to eat, or someone who would maybe be kind enough to help her despite their own poverty. As she grew nearer to the no longer so distant buildings, she noticed that there were a lot of them. A town, she thought, grateful. It wasn’t so long before she’d arrived in the little town and decided to explore it, shivering and walking down a dimly lit path as she came across a bar of some sort. _Should I go in?_ She asked herself. The voices in her head seemed to say “yes,” so she decided to give it a shot, figuring it may have something to eat, or at least some warmth and a place to sit down for a bit. It couldn’t hurt to at least go inside and check it out, even if she just went back out again.

Turning up her collar, she opened the door, and slumped into the bar, sitting down at the counter on an empty stool, away from anyone else who was also sitting there. She waited for something to happen, bored and tired and hungry and cold, and just wanting a break from the wind. She’d allowed herself to become lost in her thoughts when a voice seemed to be addressing her.

“Miss? Are you alright?”

She looked up. A man in a silver suit was looking at her in concern. He seemed to be the owner of this place, or at the very least a bartender of sorts. “Can I get you anything?”

Parr had learned not to trust men as a general matter, but this was an old, kindly spirit who seemed to be genuinely trying to help her, he almost gave the air of a god.

“Would you happen to have a match?” She asked. With a match, she could light a small fire, which would keep her warm, if only for a little bit. The man nodded, and pulled a box of matches out of his pocket, holding them out to her.  
  


“Oh no, I only needed one,” she shook her head, taking a match out of the box and handing the matchbox back to him. She didn’t know if he had misunderstood her or if he was genuinely offering her all of them, but even if it was intentional, she couldn’t accept that gift.

“Take the whole box,” He smiled. “You’ll have something to strike the match against, and it couldn’t hurt to have more, now, could it?”

“Fine,” she said, taking the box for him. She didn’t want to accept this gift, but he seemed insistant, and he was right. _More matches will keep me warm for longer, she thought._

She lit a match and cupped it in her hand, feeling the warmth of the flame between her fingers, watching it flicker and jump around. She let herself become consumed with watching the match, distracting herself from any problem she might have to face in the near future, letting the match and the warm flame right in her hands be the only thing in her mind for the moment. The voices in her head whispered in her ear like they always did, but she didn’t have the time to listen to them right now. She wanted to get lost in the flame, as if she had set herself on fire.

The voices in her head always whispered, though. These voices were the Fates, the Sisters Three, and they were always singing in the back of her mind, or whispering in her ear. Clotho, who spun the thread of human life, was the kindest at times, but she also had a knack for mischief, and could be very chaotic. The youngest sister, she was very temperamental and a little bit naive and immature, but what she lacked in brain, she made up for in personality. Lachesis, the middle sister, who measured the thread, determining how long one’s life was, was the calmest of the three, and the voice of morality and reason. She was always settling her sisters’ arguments, and, though she could be cruel when angered, she generally remained very calm, and was probably the kindest more often. Atropos was the oldest, responsible for cutting the thread of life. She was also the cruelest, and the quickest to anger, always criticizing Parr’s every move, and taken to mischief, though much more mature than her sister. Parr had no idea why these voices spoke to her specifically, but at times they seemed like the wind, cruel and chilling, blowing her wherever they saw fit, always seeming to whisper in the back of her mind.

“That flame won’t keep you warm for long,” said Atropos.

“You’ve got time…Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Lachesis said, trying to comfort her.

“Don’t listen to her. Someone’s coming,” said Clotho, and Parr instinctively looked up.

She noticed a girl walking towards her, a waitress or server or bartender of sorts, she didn’t know, but judging by her apron, she definitely worked at the place. Was she coming to speak to her? Or just walking in her direction? She didn’t know, but she prepared herself for what she was going to say. She trusted women more than she trusted men, but she still had a hard time trusting strangers in general, after all that she had experienced, so she was a little on edge.

She studied the girl carefully. She was pale, with long brown hair in two funky space buns that tapered out into ponytails at the bottom. She wasn’t super tall, but she wasn’t short either, and she looked to be around Catherine’s age, give or take a few years. She wore a green bandana around her neck, and underneath her apron she had a white shirt, and a gray suspender skirt, with leggings of the same color. She was a poor girl, Catherine thought, judging by her petite frame and stained and tattered clothes. _And one who always seemed to have her head in the clouds,_ judging by her aimless wandering instead of really doing her job. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to someone who didn’t uphold a place in society, sure Catherine herself was poor, but she worked hard to make sure that she at least had enough to survive, this girl didn’t seem to have any survival instincts at all. But she was pretty, holy fuck, she was pretty, and Parr had definitely noticed. She couldn’t help but be entranced – no – intrigued by her.

Catherine let herself turn back to the flame, watching it flicker in her hands, and letting it once again consume her. She tried to ignore the voices in her head, and their constant quarrelling over what she should do. _Those three bitches never seemed to be able to make up their minds._

“Come on, you know you want to talk to her,” crooned Clotho.

“Bitch, no you don’t! You don’t know if you can trust her!” Atropos warned.

“Ignore my sister, just give it a shot, trust me!” Clotho said.

“People turn on you just like the wind. You don’t want to be let down again.” said Atropos.

“Girls please,” said Lachesis. “Let the girl make up her own mind.”

Parr didn’t know who to listen to. Clotho and Atropos had both made good points, but she was too focused on watching the flame flicker to pay either of them much mind. She let the light and heat of the flame consume her, watching it jump around in her hand, feeling it run through her, watching as the little flame started to get smaller, and the fire on the match started to die out. She contemplated lighting another one, to keep the fire going a little longer, to keep her mind fixated on a match and ignore the harsh realities of her life for just another moment, until that flame, too would die. But she decided against it. She needed the rest of those matches, she didn’t know where she’d be sleeping that night, or any of the nights after that, she didn’t want to waste all of her matches inside a bar where there was already light and heat, and have nothing left for herself when she was out in the cold and dark with nothing to keep her warm or shed some light on her surroundings so she could see. She needed to make this box of matches last as long as possible, and even just one more match used in here would be a waste. The voices in her head returned, and this time, she had no flame to watch, nothing to drown them out.

“Just one more,” said Clotho.

“No, save your fire. Or you’ll freeze to death in your sleep.” Atropos snapped.

“You just need to be able to survive,” said Lachesis.

Parr shoved the matchbox into her bag. Atropos was right, she needed to save those matches. Exhaustedly, she slumped into a table in the corner of the bar, as being at the counter made her feel slightly uncomfortable, like someone was always watching her every move. Maybe it was Mister Hermes, the man in the silver suit who had given her the box of matches. Maybe it was that girl who had been looking at her earlier. Maybe it was just the Fates, those terrible voices that followed her wherever she went. Or maybe it was nothing. But she just got the feeling that she’d be better off in the corner, so she followed her gut and moved to a table in the back.

She felt safer here, alone with just her thoughts and her voices and her box of matches. Back here, no one could watch her. She had nothing to worry about. Parr was bold and strong when she needed to be, and she knew how to defend herself, but when danger came, she tended to like to descend into the shadows, and vanish from sight. Sometimes, she felt like she wanted to disappear. And here, she did. Well, not really. Physically, she didn’t disappear, she remained alive, though she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t find food and shelter. But no one could see her back here, and she could disappear into her thoughts. Her thoughts were like a flame, that flickered in her hand, and if she focused on one thought, she could let it consume her, disappearing into the world she wanted to see, not the terrible world that was. But a shadow came over her once again, ending her fantasies and snapping her out of her thoughts, for she could never quite see the world the way it could be. She tried to, she tried to have a positive outlook on life. But after all she’d seen, she’d grown cynical. No matter how hard she tried to see the world the way it could be, the way she _wanted_ it to be, all she saw was the world that was.

Having snapped out of her thoughts, Parr braced herself to address the owner of the shadow. She looked up, ready to defend herself, and she gasped when she saw who it was. It was the girl from earlier, the server girl! The one who had been looking at her, and who she’d been ~~entranced~~ _intrigued_ by. She seemed confident, and the look in her big, green eyes seemed dazed and oddly welcoming. People usually looked at Catherine either with lust, contempt, or hatred, but this was something different. She looked like a lovesick puppy. Parr wondered if she could trust this girl, but her better nature warned against it. She knew at this point that she should never trust anyone on first sight, she’d been taken advantage of that way before, or otherwise had bad things come of trusting people on sight way too many times. The girl seemed innocent, but she knew better than to trust appearances. Even salt could look like sugar. She prepared herself for what she’d have to say to her, and if she would say anything at all.

“Talk to her,” Clotho whispered in her ear.

“Don’t, she’ll just use you like the rest of them,” Atropos warned.

“What matters more to you? Safety or love?” asked Lachesis.

Parr looked up at the girl who stood in front of her again. She’d thought she was pretty from a distance, but she was even more beautiful up close. Her bright green, dazzling eyes told a story, and it was one she’d never told before. The vibrance of her eyes contrasted her soft features in a way that complimented her so perfectly, and she looked so innocent and sweet. Maybe she should talk to her, just for a little bit. Get to know her a bit, see if maybe she was someone who could actually be trusted, make an educated decision that wasn’t based on appearance. But she also knew that if she talked to her, she may end up getting too attatched, and she couldn’t let that happen. Parr never gave her heart out to anyone, for fear that they may end up breaking it. She’d learned her lesson the hard way, as she’d done that one too many times, and she didn’t want to get her heart broken any more. She debated whether or not she should talk to this girl, deciding not to initiate anything herself, but to respond if the other girl spoke to her.

She wanted to trust her, for her eyes looked so genuine and so full of love, and she doubted anyone could fake that kind of look at her, but she remembered what Atropos had said to her:

_People turn on you just like the wind._

She wondered if she should just get up right now and keep walking, any way the wind would take her. But by some whim, she stayed in the bar, gazing at the girl in front of her.

**Author's Note:**

> another old fic, this one's even older but considering as I'm finally updating it soon I thought I'd put it here as well since I love it! anyway here's the first chapter of hadestown au


End file.
